“Angela Teacher, you’re still so young, and you don’t seem to have any illness that would prevent you from being active. Why did you choose to step back and work behind the scenes?”
“So I told you, it’s not my choice.”
“Why?”
Tch! This girl! Does she have to get to the bottom of everything?!
Her cool, aloof face flashed with a hint of annoyance. Ange stamped her foot.
Thankfully, the shoes she used to wear always had high heels, and her physique was exceptional, so she’d quickly adapted to walking in stilettos.
But that wasn’t her problem right now. The real issue was this Ingrid—why did she talk so much?! Was she the “Ten Thousand Whys”?
She’d been bombarding her with questions since just now. Come on, how was she supposed to explain?!
Should she say—Oh! I might have to step down from the front lines at any moment because my Magic Mark could flare up?!
“Hey… do you know about Magic Marks?”
“I do. Some of the Elders in my family use them. These patterns help channel Magic, serve all sorts of purposes, and are very handy tools.”
“I have one too.”
The more she tried to hide it, the more misunderstandings would arise. Ange thought for a moment, then decided it’d be better to just be honest.
“You have one? Then what does that have to do with you stepping down?”
“The Magic Mark on me is a Curse. Its effect is… well, it seriously affects my ability to fight, so I can only retreat to the Academy to teach you all. How about you? Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”
The tall, valiant, silver-haired lady stepped forward, her knees covered in black stockings, hands spread, lips curled in a slight smile.
She was genuinely interested in this student named Ingrid as well.
A Noble Lady from a prestigious family, personally involved in Demon Hunting—it was hard to imagine any parent willing to send their precious daughter into something this dangerous.
“Me? There’s not much to say. I hate Demons, that’s all.”
“Don’t be so tight-lipped, Ingrid.”
“Fine, I’ll try to talk more. I didn’t have any expectations of you at first.”
Huh? What?
Ange frowned. Why was she getting caught in the crossfire all of a sudden?
“Most of the teachers at the Academy are just a bunch of useless nobodies. They can’t teach me anything. As far as I’m concerned, you’re no different. I don’t know your real level, but I believe, aside from that number one Demon Hunter, Ange, who’s vanished from the public eye, no one else can teach me anything.”
“Wait, wait, wait.”
Ange’s expression turned strange. The silver-haired lady stopped in her tracks, her ankle idly twisting around—she was dumbfounded.
Ingrid, do you not know my name? I’m that very person!
“I’m Ange. Didn’t they tell you?”
“Angelina—your full name. Please don’t treat me like a fool, Teacher.”
“Huh?”
What do you mean by that?! You want me to prove I’m me?!
Of course I can prove it! I—
Prove my ass… damn it…
How am I supposed to prove it…
Ange glanced at herself: stockings on her legs, women’s boots below, hot pants, her upper body wrapped tightly to hide her Magic Mark, long silver hair, and those violet, enchanting eyes—could this be me? This didn’t look like me.
But this is me. Damn it!
“Let’s have a spar, Ingrid.”
Ange was not joking. Her strength as a Demon Hunter—her ability—was like her dignity. Being looked down on by this little brat, Ingrid, really made her angry.
“Are you sure? I won’t hold back.”
This girl Ingrid was stubborn, too. She summoned her weapon with Magic—a gorgeous Rapier.
The guard had some sort of special mechanism that could rotate.
No wonder she was from a big family—her weapon was impressive, Ange thought to herself.
“Come on, as your teacher, I think I need to discipline you a bit.”
Don’t underestimate me, Ingrid. In all my years as a Demon Hunter, not only have I slain Demons, I’ve tortured them, too. To make them obey, I know plenty of ways to interrogate.
“Heh, come—hnngh!”
Ange suddenly clutched her lower abdomen, a look of discomfort appearing on her face.
“What’s wrong, Teacher? Is this some kind of special pre-battle preparation?”
Seeing Ange’s odd behavior, Ingrid just tilted her head.
Her pure mind could only guess that maybe this was some kind of stance.
But clutching your stomach? That’s a strange stance.
Maybe it’s for protecting her belly? Not bad, this teacher reacts fast, already starting her defense.
“Wait! Hold on! I need to go to the restroom!”
“Now? You must be joking. The fight will be over soon—you can go after that.”
Ingrid raised her Rapier and lunged, thrusting toward Ange’s chest.
“Aiya! Stop! Please, not now!”
“I can’t accept an incompetent teacher. Please, prove yourself!”
“You insolent brat! You call me ‘Teacher’ with your mouth but show no respect at all!”
“Respect is earned by strength. I hope you have it.”
Seeing that Ingrid really wasn’t going to stop, Ange had no choice but to pull out her weapon.
Besides her most-used Black and White Twin Pistols, she also carried a special Gunblade, a weapon she’d obtained from a Demon.
The Gunblade could split into many parts; anything that strayed too far from the main body would automatically return—a very handy weapon.
The Gunblade slid from her sleeve; she gripped one in each hand, gritting her teeth as she braced for Ingrid’s attack.
The Rapier clashed with one of the Gunblades, metal ringing and flashes of silver lighting up the air.
Ange took a small step back. She really had underestimated Ingrid.
This girl’s physical ability was nearly on par with her own—practically superhuman.
The Rapier shouldn’t have been an advantage in a contest of strength, but in her hands, it had the impact of a greatsword.
After taking that hit head-on, Ange’s palms stung. And… with that last jolt… she hadn’t clenched tightly enough…
A little leaked out…
Now, she was really glad she’d worn black stockings.
“What’s wrong, Teacher? Is this all you’ve got? If so, you’re not qualified to be my teacher, either.”
“Eh? Where’d she go?”
Ingrid looked ahead again—the tall, mature silver-haired lady who’d just been there had vanished.
The sound of heels? Over there!
Ingrid followed the sound. Sure enough, Ange was running off, apparently heading……
……To the restroom?
After a few minutes, Ingrid grew bored and started drawing circles on the ground with her Rapier.
At the sound of crisp footsteps, Ange finally came back out.
“All right, Ingrid. A student should behave like a student.”
For some reason, Ange’s face was slightly flushed.
She held a Gunblade in each hand, crossing them in front of her. Her violet eyes shone eerily in the moonlight.